


Love?

by hamish_adler_holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, I wrote this at like 2am, M/M, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamish_adler_holmes/pseuds/hamish_adler_holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this at like 2am so please don't hate me for this aha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love?

**Author's Note:**

> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sirentrash)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://angelicgays.co.vu)

Someone asked me once, "Have you ever been in love?"

  
And I honestly don't know. I mean sure, I've had girlfriends and boyfriends where we've said it to each other and it felt like the real thing at the time. But two months later when they would cry as I told them I just didn't feel the same...well.

  
It all makes me wonder. Is love an actual thing? Or do we just share a pattern of syllables and call it commitment? I see elderly couples holding hands and kissing and think to myself, "That's what love is." Love has no age limit, no point where it just turns into just being considerate. And there are different types of love. There's the rushed, sweaty bodies and heavy breathing love whispered between fevered kisses. There's the slow and the sad of a body whithering away before it's time, the love with a time limit. There's the love that you don't really mean.

  
But then there's...whatever this is. The love where my chest aches when I think of him. When he smiles at me and I feel like I'm suddenly breathing pure oxygen and my head spins and I'm off balance. The way he smells makes me dizzy and the way his lips taste against mine is a flavour I never  want to lose. When he's happy and he pulls me close and I forget that there's a world aside from just him. When he's tired and he stares at me with half-lidded eyes and tells me I'm the most beautiful person he's seen and I think I'm floating a foot off the ground.

  
When he's hurt and I feel his pain, but multiplied because I can't help.

When he cries and all I can do is say words when I want to take his pain and wrap it up inside me and never let go. I want to take his pain and store it somewhere far and dark and keep it locked and guarded.

  
When he looks at me with anger and I feel the break coming and I feel like dying because this is it, this must be love, the real deal and I cannot lose this, not now.

  
When his voice breaks as he stands at my grave, fingers brushing the stone softly, when he cries and turns like the perfect little soldier and marches away with his shoulders squared and I stand idly by, watching and trying to hide the fact that I really did die that day.

  
The way I die inside again and again when I see him with her and I know there's nothing I can do.

  
The hate in his eyes when I show myself to him and I think this is it, I really am gone now because he hates me, he won't love me anymore and he hates me as much as I hate myself.

  
The pure, painful joy when he forgives me and his lips meet mine and his flavour floods my mouth and it's like all the pain of the past two years has been washed away, the scars scrubbed clean and I am brand new.

  
The hatred I feel for her when she betrays him, burning hotter than the pain of a bullet, a white hot fury and he needs to know.

  
When I comfort him, late at night when the nightmares start again and I pull him close as his body shakes and I know, I know that something has to be done.

  
But I know killing her will never be an option because he loved her once, somewhere deep down he loved her. He loved me too, and maybe that makes him lucky, proves his heart is big since he had room for two but now it's so broken and shattered and hurt that there is hardly room for one. No room for himself, no room for me, no room for anything but the pain.

  
My lips soft on his, trying to coax him out of his mood.

  
And now it's my turn as I stand above his grave, my fingers brushing the stone and knowing that I'm joining him soon. That's what love is, loving across realms and loving so wholly that you are willing to cross universes to be with him.

  
So, to anyone who asks, yes. I have been in love, I always was, and I think my heart knew he was always going to come along, he was the one. I just had to meet him, just had to wait for him to limp through the doors, because the second I saw him and my heart lurched I knew.

  
My love.

**Author's Note:**

> Right well hope you enjoyed this...I honestly cannot explain what I was thinking when I wrote this.


End file.
